Pancakes
by teapotcrumpet
Summary: One-shot PWP. House/Wilson established relationship. Wilson makes pancakes for House in the nude :D Setting circa season 2 House's apartment Reviews are GREATLY appreciated as this is my first fic after being on hiatus for 2 years.


House awoke to the aroma of brewing coffee; he could hear pancake batter sizzling as it touched a hot pan. At least, he figured it was pancakes, as that was the only kind of breakfast food Wilson specialized in. He grunted and rolled over. _Please let it be macadamia nut_, he prayed silently. House opened his eyes and groggily sat up, rubbing his leg in the process. _Not too bad this morning_, he deduced, but popped a Vicodin conveniently stashed on the bedside table for good measure. He snatched his cane and hobbled towards the kitchen, following the decadent scent wafting through the air.

Wilson could hear House's cane thumps down the hallway. _Hopefully this goes as planned_, he thought dryly, and flipped another pancake. House stopped in his tracks as he reached the kitchen. Wilson's back was to him, which gave the older man a full view of his gorgeous ass. Wilson was making breakfast naked, clad only in an apron.

"Well I have to say this is much better than breakfast in bed…" House started. Wilson turned around, blushing, his "Kiss the Cook" apron concealing the front of his body.

"I thought I'd try something new…it also makes for a nice breeze," he babbled, waving one hand in the air, the other still holding the spatula. "Do you like?" Wilson gushed like a teenager, and began to feel increasingly more under-dressed as his bare bottom pressed against the steel oven door. He had to admit, his boyfriend's grey t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms looked more comfortable.

House answered Wilson's question by kissing him on the mouth, setting his cane against the stove and running his free hands down Wilson's nude back. Wilson hissed at the touch of House's warm fingertips, which lazily traced the length of his spine, before dipping to cup his ass.

"I like," House breathed in Wilson's ear, then slipped his tongue into Wilson's mouth. In response, Wilson tugged at the hem of House's t-shirt, and slid it over his head. Tossing it on the kitchen floor lightly, Wilson kissed House's neck and collarbone. His interest was apparent, and was showing through his thin pajama pants. House rubbed his erection against Wilson's thigh as they made out, urging the brown-eyed-man to continue. Wilson traced his fingers down House's bare chest, his eyes closed. As he reached the drawstrings of his pants he gently slipped his hand…

"Oh shit, the pancakes-" Wilson yelped suddenly, the smell of his burnt breakfast already flooding into his nostrils. House groaned pitifully as Wilson frenziedly removed the scorched disaster from the burner. House wasn't going to let pancakes ruin his morning romp with Wilson. The younger man leaned over the sink, washing off the remnants of his 'perfect morning'.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath. He had wanted this to go smoothly. He would have mad, passionate sex with his boyfriend, and afterwards they would enjoy coffee and hot macadamia nut pancakes – House's favorite. Wilson was pulled from his thoughts when he felt House's arms wrap around his waist. He pressed his lips against the back of Wilson's neck and said, "It's not ruined." He knew exactly what Wilson was thinking – he actually prided himself on that fact daily. He felt Wilson's muscles loosen beneath him as he sighed.

Sensitivity was key if House was still going to get some. Wilson was practically a woman in his thought process, as House remembers using this trick on Stacey many times in their relationship.

"Jimmy," House cooed, "I really appreciate the thought." He paused, and slowly undid the small tie that held Wilson's apron together. "But I'm not done with you yet."

Wilson chuckled lightly and turned around, into House's grasp, lifting the apron from around his neck as he did so. _Score_, House thought as the garment fell to the floor, revealing Wilson's naked form. Wilson locked eyes with House, steel blue meets syrupy brown. House's gaze traveled down to his crotch; Wilson was sporting an impressive erection.

House cracked a smile and raised his eyebrow as if to say, "You still in?"

Wilson understood his implied gesture and quickly stepped forward to meld his body against House's. The older man leaned against the kitchen island, his hands exploring Wilson's naked chest as their mouths met again, hungrily. Wilson reached down to the hem of House's pants, intent on finishing the job this time without any more interruptions. He slid his fingers nimbly around House's covered desire first, squeezing it lightly and loving House's reaction. He groaned into Wilson's mouth and pressed his hips against Wilson's grasp.

Wilson slipped the fabric down House's thighs, freeing his throbbing cock. Wilson teased House, running his fingers up and down his length at varying speeds. He looked into House's face: his head thrown back, eyes closed, his mouth slightly agape, moaning softly. Wilson quietly crept onto his knees, keeping his grasp on House he slowly pursed his lips around his tip. Surprised, House smiled and looked down. He curled his fingers in Wilson's hair, urging him to continue. Wilson sucked House slowly, his hands trailing up the man's thighs, then grabbing House's ass. He bobbed his head up and down House's length, smiling around House's cock as he heard him moan loudly, his voice echoing around the kitchen.

Wilson traced circles with his tongue around the underside of House's dick, then playfully on the sensitive head. He felt House's cock twitch enthusiastically in his mouth, and gave him one last quick stroke with his hand as he stood up.

Wilson's own penis was trembling as he leaned against House, kissing the taller man deeply, allowing him to taste his flavor that lingered on Wilson's tongue.

"Lube," House spoke, breaking the kiss. Wilson grinned and wrapped his arm around House, searching for the drawer on the kitchen island. Since moving in together, the two men decided having a tube on hand in virtually every room of the house was a clever idea that was both practical and sometimes amusing, when guests happened upon one. Wilson avidly remembers when Cuddy found one in the couch cushions, can still see the shocked expression on her face…Wilson was snapped out of his amusing memory as his fingers grasped the familiar bottle. He handed it to House, who opened it deftly with his thumb.

"Switch places?" House quipped in a cheerful voice, but arousal darkened his blue eyes. Wilson leaned against the island, his ass facing his lover. House placed a few drops in his palm and stroked himself, being sure to pay attention to Wilson also. The younger man made tantalizing noises in his throat as House grasped and stroked his dick eagerly.

"Ready?" House breathed, caressing Wilson's and his own cock at the same rhythm. Wilson made a low, sexy whimper that House took for a yes. He massaged Wilson's entrance with the tip of his cock, encircling it, at which point Wilson replied, low and guttural, "Fuck me, House."

He didn't have to ask twice. House entered him smoothly, feeling the heat encompass his aching dick. Wilson made a sharp moan, placing his hands on the cold tile of the island and arcing his back to give House better leverage. House continued to stroke Wilson's erection as he lurched into the younger man's body. He timed their cadence, his hand rubbing Wilson up and down, feeling his foreskin pull back and forth and hearing Wilson's low, blissful moans. House slipped in and out of Wilson at a greater force, the wet slapping sounds of their lovemaking a dull background in their ears as pleasure roared away in their brains. House was tipping over the edge when he heard Wilson groan loudly, felt his warm release cover his still-pulsating fist. Wilson was muttering House's name softly, and House gave him a few more strokes as he was coming down from his orgasm.

House whispered into Wilson's ear, "Almost there." He continued his thrusts at a slower pace, opting to go deeper. He moaned, low and sensually and Wilson returned the vocals, urging House on with sexy sounds he knew he couldn't resist. House smiled as he continued to fuck his lover, placing his hands on Wilson's lower back and thrusting long and hard. He heard Wilson's final words of encouragement, "Come for me, House" and did as he was told, for once. House rocked in and out of Wilson slowly a few more times, his facial expressions slack, drained from his orgasm. He pulled out of Wilson and reached for the paper towels that stood next to the sink. Sighing, he ripped off a rectangle for Wilson, who cleaned himself up, while House did the same, wiping the sweat off his brow as well.

Both men were silent for a moment, eyes closed, reveling in the aftermath. They looked at each other contentedly, their breathing returning to normal and their heart rates dropping.

"That was good, but I could really go for some…" Wilson started, but House cut him off.

"Pancakes," the older man finished, stepping into his flannel pajama bottoms once again. "Go find something decent to watch on tv and I'll be there in a second."

Wilson cocked his eyebrow, confused, slipping on House's shirt because he didn't want to put the apron on again.

"Just do it, and…find yourself some pants too," House laughed at the sight of Wilson wearing his t-shirt, which was large on him but not long enough to cover his junk. Wilson looked down and laughed, cupping himself in mock shyness.

House turned around and retrieved a fresh pan, spraying it with Pam and using Wilson's leftover batter to make a new batch of pancakes.

Wilson spoke, incredulous, "You're not…."

House interrupted him again, busy pouring batter and forming the pancakes with the spatula Wilson left, scraping off some of the burnt residue as he spoke. "I may have gone to medical school and not culinary school, but I think I can manage." He threw a small smile over his shoulder at Wilson and watched him waddle away down to their bedroom.

Wilson smiled as he walked down the hallway, thinking, _What a perfect morning_.


End file.
